Mumbai, Land of the Free

Not sure about the “Home of the Brave” though. Its been exactly a year since i went to India for the first time and this is my rant about it.

I landed in Bombay with mother, father and equally evil sister. The first thing you see on the runway is slums. Lots and lots of slums, but hey who cares! So we get to the airport its been renovated its still dirty but its an airport it will only be in your life for a few hours. I walk out the airport there are about a hundred and i mean a hundred taxis all of the same colour. A few of them have the sign on the top others have badly painted doors. Our first destination in Bombay was Andheri.

After checking into the hotel fathers need to flood his brain with nicotine and lungs with smoke kicked in and i found myself walking outside the hotel road with him. We met Raj (he and 400,000 people share that name). Raj sells Lime Juice from a small stand for 1 Indian Rupee thats 2-3 Sri Lankan Rupees. Thats not even a lime here! Raj spoke a little English and told us places to go etc. Raj being the well mannered Indian says “excuse me…bathroom” and just turned around and pissed on a wall. How lovely of him. No wonder all the walls have a distinct shade of yellow.

Dad looks at me and goes “T.I.B”


“This is Bombay!”

We went to a mall next called In Orbit. IT WAS HUGE! and worst of all it was packed with people! there was a que to go onto the escalator! And smack in the middle of the mall and can only happen in India was a singing and dancing competition. Its Sirasa SuperDancing Star every day in India. We went to a hyper market which was quite amazing. It was huge! There were 25 cashier counters and all of them had around 40 people on each. After seeing that i put down my bottle of coke and batteries i so did not need to wait for 2 hours just to get 2 items.

I got to one of the main Mumbai highways. It was a 4 way junction with 4 lanes on each side. Thats a total of 32 lanes to get hit from but nooooooooo a bunch of Indians are crossing the junction diagonally! They survive, TIB

In Mumbai it is impossible for you to get robbed in day light. The roads are so crowded that if someone grabs a handbag they wont be able to escape due to the crowd and they probably will be beaten to death by the woman. I really don’t think girls will be hearing “ah nangi” and wolf whistles while crossing the road.

Dad and i were strolling the roads at around midnight when we were approached by this shady looking fellow. He asked us if we wanted girls. My dad said no. i said y…..shook my head.

He kept going on “Any age 16? 10? 5? ill get! ill get! wait here, wait here.”

Totally disgusted dad and I went back to the hotel.

In the morning we went down the same road as last night. It was the length from Mount Lavania to Colpetty full of hookers. Its 7.30 for gods sake! Kids go to school at this time. There were young girls who looked Nepalese painted in make up and forced to sit on the street for customers who just walk off with them in broad daylight.

The women in India are gorgeous. They are either blazing hot or fugly. I saw this really really really hot girl, AND SHE WAS WALKING TOWARDS ME! and then she spoke… “what is the time yar” it was in the most masala wade Indian accent I’ve heard in my life. The blood from my head rushed to my head and i tactfully ran away.

Most women these days own Scooty Peps™ colourful gizmo’s with shopping compartments which one woman used to run over my toes. Everyone in India has a phone. From Raj to Raju to Rahul all of them have mobile phones and they should. Its dirt cheap.

Clubbing is probably the last thing ill do in India. Firstly to get in its expensive and its normally on a guest list basis thing. Clubs close at around 12 which is the time we go to clubs here. Alcohol is expensive and they always check for ID. TIB.

The lack of meat was soon getting to my head and stomach. I was sick of potatoes, cauliflower and more potatoes. I needed meat. So did dad so we found this nice Iranian restaurant which made the best Kebabs i have ever tasted. Splashed with Green Chillie Sauce and tandoori; I ate for days worth.

The education system in India is a bit messed up. To enter any Uni in India you first need an accepted application form from the National University of Mumbai. To get the form the whole state needs to come to the Uni application center on one day and wait in line to get the forms. It took around 5 hours for sis to get her form. A girl feinted standing in the hot sun. There were atleast 300 people waiting in line. Less than a 100 would probably get in. The Uni lists are divided like this. If your father was a freedom fighter and is on the Indian Army/Navy/Air Force you can easily get in. The rest is on Merit. The lowest average there was around 80%, brainy bastards.

The building i loved the most in India was the Victoria Train Station. It was a neo gothic building with animals and demons and gargoyle statues all over it. I wished i had a camera back then 😦 Sisters pictures of Mumbai can be seen here

So it was time for me to leave. I was flying alone so i found it really boring to stay in the airport. The departure lounge was dead boring. The duty free shop consisted of Subway and a shop that sold old clothes and expensive chocolate. The good thing was the long couches which i slept on. While semi sleeping i heard from the corner of the room “machang welave monadhe?” which in english means “Machang whats the time?” I sprang up in my seat. I sensed a Sri Lankan nearby. I scouted, i found them and i walked towards them, re uniting with my country men. We yapped in sinhalese until it was time to board.

The plane was full when i arrived and empty when i left India. Half the people must have been killed in between. Sigh. As i got off the plane the first thing i did was kiss Sri Lankan soil. Seriously i did it. I got some weird looks but i was happy to be back in my country.


3 thoughts on “Mumbai, Land of the Free

  1. haha. this is insanely hilarious.
    i hate india too. you should go to tamil naidu.
    it’s far worse. and i mean FAR worse!
    my best friend’s from there. but hey, i think she knows i hate india.
    never, in my life, will i step on a plane directed to INDIA…

    and the ironic thing is that they’re supposed to be an NIC or something.

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